The First Snow
by headintheclouds120
Summary: <html><head></head>*CLOSED*  The new President Snow  is eager to make a good impression his first Hunger Games. His first decree, he himself will be Gamekeeper. What dark surprises has he planned for this years' tributes?</html>
1. Introductions

I've been wanting todo one of these for a long time…

_WELCOME TO THE __62__nd__ HUNGER GAMES! _

_Katniss Everdeen has turned four and dealing with a new little sister being brought into her house. Meanwhile… _

The new president, Randal E. Snow is eager to meet the high expectations for his first Hunger Games as President of Panem. And he has several dark surprises up his sleeve for this unlucky group of tributes.

I will follow the story of the twelve best tributes submitted (form in next chapter). That will not mean exactly one from each district, I'll try my best to mix things up. I will not write an individual reaping for each person. In my experience that really slows things down. No pre-Games fanfare either, though it may be referenced in the story.

Each of the twelve tributes will have their own chapter beginning told from their POV. So give me as much info as you can so I can portray the character in your head the best way possible.

Send me your best ideas! Who knows I may use more or less than twelve depending on what I get. Submit your tributes now!

_May the odds be ever in your favor. _


	2. Ladies and Gents The Tributes!

_*update!* Thank you for all the positive feedback concerning the reaping chapter! yes, that is the only reaping i will do. next chapter should (hopefully) involve some interviews and training scores, and we'll hopefully be in the arena after that. definitely a colorful group of tributes, i'm very excited!_

_ keep the spponserships coming! LOL, anyone out there not sponsering Charlyn?_

_The 62__nd__ Hunger Games Tributes!_

**District 1-**Jewlee Ludtz, Romulus Ares

**District 2- **Adrienne Narcissus, Malum Stevens

**District 3-**Charlyn Thorn, Simon Draker

**District 4-**Thalia Maddock, Scott Perseus

**District 5-**Lucy Contessa, Scat Willhope

**District 6-**Bailey Fantine, Krons Gannon

**District 7-**Henna Doe, Adam Turner*

**District 8-**Tayley Palmer, Pic Jericho

**District 9-**Hanna Bines, Graze Knight

**District 10-**Megan Treak, Colt Evans

**District 11-**Pandora Dredwin, Nate Morgue

**District 12- **Brie Robertson, Roc Hertz

_REAPING FOUND IN NEXT CHAPTER, REMEMBER TO SEND IN YOUR CHOICE FOR SPONSERSHIP. NOT EVERYONE GOT THE DISTRICT THEY WANTED BUT I DID MY BEST, IT WAS BASICALLY FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED._

*_originally Adam Thorne, but since there is already a tribute with the last name of Thorn in these Games, I didn't want it to get confusing_


	3. Chapter 1, Reaping

Chapter 1, The Reaping

_**District 1, Jewlee Ludtz**_

"We're just not right for each other."

Breeze looks like he just watched a puppy dog drown. His eyes flood with hurt, and his mouth drops into an O shape.

"Jewl…" he whispers, he's trying so hard not to cry. I have a 99% success rate of making a boy cry at a break up and he can't ruin it. Breeze pulls back his lips and bites instead. Looks like I need move in with my needles, the little phrases that will make him squirm.

"Breeze, be serious. I mean me and you?" I laugh lightly and toss my platinum hair; I sneak a peek through it. His hands are planted firmly in his pockets as he studies my bedroom carpeting. Still no tears. Time for knives.

I push off my bed and get close to him. Pressing my body to his shaking chest I breathe deeply, and lay my head on his shoulder. I look up at him and, in my most innocent voice, give his heart a stab.

"You didn't think it was serious did you?" His tear ducts explode. He shoves me hard and I fall backward on to my bed, landing with a soft thump.

"Just get away from me Jewlee!" His voice is full of tears. Wiping his hand across his face he runs out of my bedroom and disappears down the hallway. I hear the door slam as he leaves. Yes, he forgot about it.

I open my silver jewelry box and sink my hand into the velvet lining. Shoving aside 10 rings, 6 bracelets, 9 pairs earrings, 3 diamond hairclips and 4 family heirlooms I finally reach it. Oh yes, there are advantages to dating the mayor's son. My hand emerges holding the shimmering sapphire necklace Breeze gave me on our one week anniversary. Something tells me he won't be returning for it anytime soon.

The little diamonds in the silver chain sparkle in the morning sunlight. The sapphire itself, the size of sand dollar perfectly matches my outfit. This necklace is the perfect Reaping accessory. It will also make a decent token when I volunteer for the Hunger Games today.

_**The Capitol, The Office of President Randal E. Snow **_

"All is ready sir. The reapings are about to begin." A nervous propaganda technician said as the President of Panem entered the room. The new president had cold eyes and streaks of white in his hair, like he'd been caught in a snow flurry. The technician covered his smirk with a rough cough. The new president despised snow jokes.

Twelve large holoscreens flickered to life on the wall as the President settled himself in a large red chair. The Gamekeepers, technicians and bodyguards all remained standing in the harsh metal underground room.

"They all will come in shortly one after the other because of the slight time difference and live delay." The technician said as crackling static filled every screen. "The Capitol residents are not yet awake and will receive the footage once it has been edited by propaganda technicians."

"Let the Games begin." Was all the President had to say.

"First to come in," the technician pressed buttons on a remote control. "District 8."

A stage made of rusty iron beams and bolts appeared on one of the screens, a murky sky, full of smog surrounded the large crowd standing in front of it. On the horizon were several smokestacks, and every building was made of stiff metal and concrete. The Gamekeepers wrinkled their noses. Two names were called in stiff repetition. Girl, followed by boy as they were pulled from the ornamental reaping balls

"Tayley Palmer!" "Pic Jericho!" The boy reached the stage first, a thin boy with a forgetful face and buzzed brown hair. A girl of about fourteen followed him. She was also thin, with brown-blond hair. Her deep green eyes pierced, even through the camera and all the smog.

"Continue." President Snow ordered, unsettled by the girl's eyes.

"District 11." Another screen burst to life. Flat open land surrounded the simple wooden buildings. The sky was clear blue, marked only at parts with guard towers. The only thing similar to the previous footage was the ornamental glass balls. Two names were called.

"Pandora Dredwin!" A pale girl who sharply contrasted all others in the district went up to the stage. The crowd murmured slightly at her name. She looked familiar to the president, something in her eyes.

"She is…?"

"The head peacekeeper's daughter, sir." A Gamekeeper responded. Another name was called.

"Nate Morgue." A far more normal looking boy joined Pandora on the stage. He was lean with a runner's build. In the far corner two parents could be seen in tears. President Snow nodded.

"District 6." The president was jerked to a different place.

"Bailey Fantine!" a trembling girl approached the stage. By the time she was in full view of the crowd, her eyes went dead and she passed out. Luckily the mentor standing close by caught her body before she fell from the stage.

"Krons Gannon!" The crowd groaned as a broad shouldered boy climbed the steps. His blond hair was a messy curtain that swung away to reveal a pair of deep blue eyes. The sound of outcries could be heard faintly in the background.

President Snow breathed deeply as he studied the two tributes. Two names, two faces. He was sure to remember them because he never forgot a face. Another screen came to life.

"District 5."

The girl tribute was already standing on the stage before the district. Her eyes were a sad blue, and her face was thin. But she had broad shoulders, and stood with ramrod posture.

"Lucy Contessa sir." A Gamekeeper explained as the boy tribute was called.

"Scat Willhope!" This boy was also red haired with a wild look in his green eyes. He was significantly taller than Lucy, but slouched so much they appeared the same height.

"District 1." Buttons were pressed and a luxurious cityscape appeared on the screen. The crowd wore posh outfits and cheered madly as two names were called.

"Opal Von Luster!" The girl didn't even move, volunteers were always expected in District 1.

"I volunteer!" A tall, curvy girl in an unforgiveable blue dress took the stage. Her platinum hair touched her hips and a massive sapphire necklace surrounded her long neck. A technician wolf whistled.

"Our tribute, Jewlee Ludtz!" the girl spun gracefully on the heel of her boot, giggling in the fun of it.

"Her sister was a victor five years ago, sir. Mauve Ludtz." Another Gamekeeper informed him.

"She will have much to live up to." Spoke the president serenely as he remembered the graceful girl five Games ago who had made it one of the shortest lasting Games ever.

"Julius Re-"

"I volunteer!" A boy with a meaty face, squinty eyes but muscles that stretched his shirt walked steadily forward.

"Our male tribute, Romulus Ares!" The massive applause faded out as President Snow turned his attention to the next screen.

"District 10."

Red mountains spanned across the distant horizon. Faint brown shapes of cattle herds could be seen in the background. The smell of manure and hay seemed to seep straight through the camera into the screening room.

Almost everyone in the crowd seemed to be wearing a straw hat, the wind sent clouds of red dust across the town square as two names were called.

"Megan Treak!" An olive skinned girl appeared on stage. She had tight brown curly hair and deep brown eyes. Her fingers fidgeted endlessly but she smiled at the boy tribute when he joined her.

"Colt Evans!" A strong boy approached the stage with swagger. He commanded the attention of the crowd like a Capitol politician. Around his waist was a large belt buckle that clearly had just been spit shined. The ladies of the town wept with passion, the boys seemed happy he would be gone.

"District 4."

The dry land became lush turquoise sea and glittering sand. The reaping was happening right at the shoreline and the crowd's ankles were repeatedly wet by the swirling tide.

"Thalia Maddock!"

A small girl in a green sundress stepped forward. Her fingers trembled in fists as she stared at the ground masked by a blanket of hair so black it was blue in the sunlight.

"Jonas Conch!" Before the tall boy with rough fisherman's hands could reach Thalia, another boy came forward.

"I volunteer!" The boy was thin and lacked any muscle. He spoke with conviction though, and held his chest high as he took the other boy's place.

"Scott Perseus! Our new male tribute!" The boy flinched at his name, he appeared to gulp, then looked as if he regretted his decision. President Snow chuckled to himself and waved to the technician signaling it was time to move on.

"District 2."

A long line of steep brown cliffs and mountains stretched across the horizon. Every mountain was dotted with several homes each set precariously into the rock. Two volunteers came forward after each name was called.

The first was a girl with icy skin and gray eyes. Her was brown hair pulled into a low ponytail, the skin on her face had no wear to it as if she never smiled.

"Adrienne Narcissus! Our volunteer tribute!" Her name was said to scattered applause. She looked comfortable, with both hands placed behind her back. Her every feature was unsettling, she was too cold.

Next there was a second volunteer. He had deep brown skin and a tough expression on his face. He nodded to the girl as if they had a secret.

"Malum Stevens!"

"Move on." Ordered President Snow. Soon he was watching District 9' s reaping.

"Hanna Bines!"

"Graze Knight!"

The girl was long and lean with waist length black hair pulled into a ponytail. The boy was sturdy and tan, but had a deep white scar running down his cheek. He seemed to see President Snow in the camera and gave him a stare full of daggars.

"District 7."

A sturdy audience surrounded by deep green forest appeared. A young olive skinned girl named Henna took the stage, two brown plaits flowing behind her. Next was an older boy with brown eyes and skin to match. His name was Adam Turner and he was a sturdy as the trees he cut.

A technician gasped suddenly.

"What is it?" said the president.

"It's District 3 sir, a very urgent message is coming in."

"Cut to the footage now!" said another technician punching a key pad. Seconds later the Distrcit's screen flickered to life. Everyone in the room gasped.

The boy tribute had volunteered. His name was Simon Draker and he seemed totally weighed down by the thick glasses he wore. But he wasn't demanding the President's attention.

There, on the reaping stage, was an older girl, about eighteen. She stood among the factories and electric labs sobbing with passion before an outraged district. The girl was willowy, with a curly head of red hair. But her dress was stretched so tightly at her stomach that it could only mean one thing.

"A pregnant tribute." President Snow said aghast. The Gamekeepers instantly began arguing amongst themselves, on the screen the girl sobbed. A technician hurriedly pulled up a medical profile.

"Charlyn Thorn age, 18. District 3. Currently receiving extra rations and vitamins due to her current condition of being pregnant." She read then tuned to President Snow. "Sir? She's due to deliver in a matter of weeks. Surely you wouldn't-"

"The rules are the rules." The President spoke with malice. Then his expression changed. "We're finished now. Continue with the reapings."

"One final District sir, District 12."

The final screen buzzed to life.

_**District 12, Katniss Everdeen **_

The square is packed with worried people of all kinds. It's a bit hard for me to see their faces at my height, but their feet say it well enough. Shifting, rocking, stock still. All unnatural rhythms. Mother squeezes my hand tighter, like she is the one that could wander away at any time.

Primrose shrieks a bit in Dad's arms. Her face is smudged with her breakfast and she's dribbling drool on Dad's good reaping shirt. Her blue eyes peer over Dad's shoulder down to me. I scrunch up my face, stick out my tongue and pull on my ears hoping to make her laugh. Primrose shrieks louder now and wriggles furiously. She looks at my face again and throws up.

Some baby sister.

"Keep screaming and vomiting like that Prim, maybe the Capitol will hear and they'll know how we feel when we see their creepy faces." I say.

"Katniss!" my mother snaps. She bends down and meets my eyes. "You never say that again young lady! Especially during the reaping!" She frantically looks around to see if any Capitol officials heard.

Ok, now I'm confused. Dad said the same thing when he was alone holding Prim in the kitchen last night. She had woken me again and I was peering into the kitchen to investigate. Now dad has turned around to stare at me incredulously. Finally he turns back around shaking his head.

Someone far away on the stage begins to speak. At this point, Dad would hoist me on his shoulders so I could watch, but not this year. He's far too busy with Primrose and her gurgling gallons of drool. I observe a beautiful panorama of butts instead.

Our family has no one in the reaping this year. Mother and Dad are too old and Primrose and I are too young. But we still have to go and watch. "Those are the rules", Mother said. "Dumb rules", I always respond.

The time comes for the girl to be chosen. It's like a raffle, but the poor kids have more tickets and all the winners are unhappy.

"Brie Robertson!"

"Rich girl." Dad whispers.

"She's only thirteen!" Mother whispers sadly, and then noticing my distress, hoists me up to watch.

The girl wears a long green skirt and has a brown braid that reaches her butt. I tug at my own hair wondering if I could grow it that long. The girl is tiny for her age and trembles in the knees as she waits for the other tribute.

"Roc Hertz!" The boy has sandy hair and walks like he owns the place. His arms are really big and he could probably do my job of carrying a bucket of laundry water to the house every week in a flash.

"Our District 12 tributes!" a voice booms. "Happy Hunger Games and-"

"May the odds be ever in your favor!" the crowd responds.


	4. Chapter 2, Play Back

Chapter 2, Play Back

_The Training Center_

_**Colt Evans, District 10**_

I watch as the morning sun pours gold light through my windows. Wouldn't it be great to be a sun? No confusion, you come up, you come down. Why can't life be that simple? No questions asked. I, on the other hand, am asking myself a lot of questions right now.

Outside, on a different balcony another girl watches the sunrise. She has a red ponytail that shimmers like amber. She's been out there a long time, just standing there, crying a little. What hurts me is that I'm the reason why.

I wave to her through my window, but she only scowls at me and goes back inside. _Come on Lucy, don't be this way_, I think weakly. But what was I expecting? Her to smile and wave back after what I did to her? _Lucy_? I sigh begin the inevitable play-back of the past few days in my head.

First I get myself reaped for the Hunger Games. I spend the train ride swearing to myself I'll forget drama, distractions and extras. The Games aren't District 10, I can't goof off with girls all the time and be careless about everything else. No ones going to be there to save me or bail me out. Everything I do will be for my survival in the arena, nothing else unless I want to return home with a knife in my chest. I almost had myself convinced, but of course it couldn't last. After a chariot ride and a parade of bad decisions I ended in a closet with a girl from District 1.

I remember the closet well, her hair in my fingers, her body so hot it burned. The make out, the messing around and when it was done, her voice in a growly whisper.

"_Come back again Colt,_" were the words of Jewlee Ludtz after our time. The goddess didn't just want me, she wanted me back. It even made me giddy.

But then there was the day after that, yesterday. She slipped me a little note at breakfast, on pink paper with a subtle scent to it.

_Same time, same place, _it read. I had my plan, after training I'd meet her once more in the closet. I'd already screwed up on my promise, may as well have some fun before I meet my certain-death. But that's when I looked up from my pancakes, another girl caught my eye.

How, after five minutes in a closet with an extremely hot goddess, could any other girl look so pretty? How could I, the boy who has had every girl in the district, get choked up at sight of an ordinary girl? I really tried hard not to like her, but somehow Lucy Contessa looked so beautiful right then.

She couldn't have been more different from Jewlee. Her auburn hair was pulled into a high bun with loose pieces hanging down. She had pale skin and a rounded face, her eyes were blue. Even though she was short, she had this elegant way of walking that made her seem so much taller. She held her broad shoulders back, lifted her neck and kept her spine straight. And that's when I started staring like a moron at her. Needless to say she stopped and raised her eyebrows.

"Is something wrong?" she asked me, her eyes blinking innocently. When I didn't answer she shrugged and walked away. But the idiocy doesn't stop there.

I followed her to every station in the training area. Luckily I regained speech at hand-to-hand combat and we started talking. She was different, so unlike any girl I'd ever spoken to. She seemed intelligent and didn't seem to lose any IQ points when she talked to me. And that's another thing, we actually had things to talk about. Usually at about thirty seconds in I have to resort to dirty talk and we're making out within minutes. Not her though. She told me about her home in 5, her past and the struggle of her parents to feed ten other kids. I told her about life in 10, the hot summers on the family ranch and a barn cat Milk Man who we thought was a boy until we found him surrounded by an entire litter of baby kittens. She laughed at that one, her laugh made her eyes glitter. We also argued over which District was the worst. It soon became a game of _What's The Worst Thing About Your District?_

"In ten it's always hot, even in winter! The manure piles smell in the heat and there's no where you can go that you can't smell it." I told her as we ran down the hallway to her balcony to catch the sunset.

"In five it starts snowing in September and doesn't let up until May!" she laughed, unlocking her door.

I hadn't watched a sunset in a long time, I told her that. I don't remember much else about the balcony but the kiss.

The kiss was subtle, not rough and hot like other girls. Lucy's kiss smiled, it was happy, a little sun rise after years of storm. There was passion though, true beauty. When I pulled back she had tears in her eyes.

"Are we real Colt?" Good question, what were we?

"Yes." I said without really thinking it through. Lucy smiles.

Later that night, words from an older boy in the district, not too much different from me, came to mind. _Marry the woman who is your best asset. _I think about the Games, the odds and how much I want to see my family but refuse to admit it, who is my best asset? Jewlee is. As a District 1 resident she would surely be welcomed into the career pack. She has beauty and a host of male sponsers. The past four victors have all been from the career pack, it looks like the best odds. The only chance I'd have of getting in is by playing couple with her. I spend the night telling myself she's a better kisser than Lucy.

The next morning I really screw my life around. Lucy smiles and touches the seat next to her when I enter for breakfast.

"In your dreams ginger." I bark and slide in next to Jewlee who cackles. We share a sloppy kiss in for the camera, she even pulls out and gives it a wink. Lucy's face is burning as she tosses her untouched waffle in the trash and leaves quickly. I force myself not to look back at her.

The scene replays over and over agin in my head while I sit in the sunrise. Finally I make myself a new promise, one I know I will keep. I will never have a true love for myself. It wasn't made for me, never will I find it. Girls like Lucy deserve better anyway. Love was made for people with loyalty, people who search their whole lives for that person. I'll never be the loyal boy, I'll always be the one who runs if there's better chances somewhere else. The jerk, the bum, that's what I am. _Colt Evans: Womanizing Jerk, Proceed With Caution. _I'll make a t-shirt that way girls like Lucy will stay away and not get hurt.

No questions asked.


	5. Chapter 3, Only In the Capitol

Chapter 3, Only in the Capitol

_**Nate Morgue, District 11 Tribute**_

Ok so, you finally work up the courage to tell that girl next door that you love her. And when you do, she smiles all happy and says she loves you to. So for the first time ever you have an actual girlfriend and you're not so miserable anymore. But not too long after that you're chosen for the most life threatening, most dangerous thing you're pretty much ever going to encounter in your life. The Hunger Games.

And the odds _will not_ be in your favor.

There's tears and sad good-byes, promises and a whole lot of kissing. You swear you'll never forget her, that's right I did the deed, I swore to Bella I'd always be hers. So how did I end up in pulled into a dark closet with a smoking hot girl from District 1? Especially when that girl is supposed to have a man of her own, another tribute from 10? Where do those two storylines connect?

That's why while I was pressed against the wall of the closet, the girl way too close for comfort, I couldn't help but utter, "What the hell am I doing here?"

"What?" the girl says, walking her fingers up my shoulder.

"What the _hell _am I doing here?" I repeat, brushing away her hand. I had to get out of there, for Bella and so that guy from District 10 wouldn't pummel me. I grabbed the knob and started to make my exit, but thought I shouldn't be a total jerk. The girl had pretty much dragged me into this closet after all.

"You're really pretty Julia."

"Jewlee." She scowls.

"Right, uh, Jewlee. You're really pretty, but I have a girlfriend and she trusts me, so…" The mood is instantly awkward, especially when she leans in close and whispers in my ear all growly.

"_Ciao._"

"Uh, ciao." I say shivering, then promptly walk away as fast as possible. Who knew that in the Capitol an innocent trip to the bathroom could become an instant situation of protecting your virtue? I pick up speed, trying to find the elusive restrooms.

The winding hallways of the Training center swallow me up and I'm lost in no time. Great. More dark closets for me to walk past. I take another flight of stairs that seems the exact same one I took only minutes ago. Wait, did I go down or up last? I heard the Training Center also extends several stories into the ground. Is that where I am?

Soon I;m searching frantically for any sign of, well, anything. No floor numbers, no maps just endless white hallways with identical doors. I'm stepping cautiously down yet another flight of metal steps when I hear voices close by. I quickly locate their source behind a narrow door that has just been cracked open.

"This ought to be one of the shortest Games yet." The deep male voice is followed by sounds of clicking and turning.

"Nah. Have you seen some of the tributes, that pair from 2? Neither of them is going down without a long bloody fight." I pick up a slight Capitol accent in their speech, there is also more clicking and turning noises.

"Come on. With all the extra hub-bub Snows throwing in? This alone's gotta kill at least three or so on the spot!"

Working up the courage, I peer around the threshold. The two presumed speakers sit across from eachother at a small table. The two men both wear loose gray jumpsuits with large Capitol symbols stamped across the backs. Surrounding them are many boxes filled with lidless glass jars of something that looks like baby food. They each remove a jar from the box, attach and seal a lid, then slide the jar across the table back into another box, repeating the process again and again. I also notice there are two colors of baby food, one blue, the other pink. The man on the left seals jars containing pink, the man on the right always takes blue. The stuff in the jars looks like some kind of fertilizer we might use in 11, which may mean its poisonous, but why the separate colors? I watch them a while, trying to hear more, but neither of them speaks again.

_Come on Nate, _my conscience nagged, _training scores are TODAY. And what have you done? Play with some butter knives and toss a few razors? _ I really need to find the training area again, but what if eavesdropping on these men means my survival? It would mean I'd see Bella again, have a house in the Village, maybe even have a little extra food around. Then again, I have no clue what the baby food is, or where it's going. All I know is that it's somehow involved in the "hub-bub" Snow's been planning. But didn't I already expect that?

"That's it Gjim, one thousand jars. Ready to head home?" The blue-baby-food-man rises and stretches.

"Oh, yeah. Looks like I'll catch the training scores on the evening Games Update."

Suddenly they're both heading toward the door. I take off down the hallway at top speed and leap behind a corner before they have the chance to see me. I quickly find refuge hiding behind a bookshelf.

The pink-baby-food-man brushes at his clothes angrily, like a swarm of fruitflies are attacking him.

"Hope none of that stuff got on me, wouldn't want to bring that home." He says. The blue-baby-food-man laughs at his antics and the pink man punches him lightly on the arm. "Oh hush! You're only lucky you got the blues!"

"We flipped a coin Otten." The blue man says.

I try to rest my shoulder on one of the shelves, but it suddenly detaches and clatters to the ground. The clamor of metal echoes down the hallways, I let a curse escape from my mouth.

"Hey! Hear that?"

"Yeah."

"Do you suppose we should-"

"Shhh."

I hear the click of some kind of weapon being loaded. Soon the two Capitol janitors are armed and dangerous. I curse myself (silently) for even coming down here as I search fruitlessly for a place to hide. The janitors' footsteps get closer and closer until they are about to turn the corner. Tensing, I ready myself for a sting. Instead I get a rumble.

I turn around frantically to see the bookshelf turning itself. I'm helplessly along for the ride as rotates one hundred eighty degrees into a cavity in the wall.

The harsh white uniformity is replaced by a dim dusty room, weakly lit by a set of old-fashioned light bulbs. I nearly jump out of my skin at the sight of a young girls face in the orange glow. She has a plain face, brown hair and green eyes. I recognize her as the girl tribute from District 7.

"Oh, um, hello." I stutter, not sure what to say. Her face flickers slightly, as if she heard me but refuses to answer. "Nice place you got here…" But she continues to stare at me. "I'm not going to kill you." I say finally holding up my hands.

The girl smiles a bit, then turns away shyly. "Follow me." Her voice is barely a whisper as she springs into the darkness and disappears.

The darkness she disappeared within is actually a tunnel, correction a lot on tunnels. I would've lost her within minutes if not for her narrow penlight. The girl leads me through an intricate pattern of tunnels, slides, staircases and doors. All are thick with darkness and dust. The silence soon becomes too unsettling to bear.

"So, um…"

"Tayley." She provides.

"Tayley. I'm Nate. Thanks by the way back there, saving my life and everything."

"You're welcome." She says softly, keeping her eyes focused ahead and in all directions but mine. Her penlight suddenly falls on the knob on one of the doors. Even coated with dust, I can make out a Capitol crest engraved into the knob. Like a switch it triggers my mind off like a rocket.

Of course, we're in the Deep Maze, a confusing pattern of tunnels that span the entire Capitol underground and twist up within its buildings. Put in for protection of government officials in case of war again, one can virtually escape any building unseen if they can find an entrance. I shake my head in the dark. Only in the Capitol could a simple bathroom break become a life threatening situation involving one of its biggest secrets.

Secret. The word hits me like falling apple from a tree above. Am I in more danger now that Tayley and I have discovered this place? The only reason I know about it is that the District 11 librarian and I are on good terms, and she gave me the key to the old vaults after I'd double read every book on Capitol history in District 11. The old vaults are full of documents that should've been destroyed after the war, but in District 11 at least, survived. One rainy afternoon I came across a withering paperback that suggested the Maze's existence, complete with a grainy photograph of a possible map.

"Tayley, how did you find this place?" I ask, ducking to avoid a low doorframe.

"Hmm? Oh, one of the bullseyes in the training area flipped forward when I tried to remove my arrow. I found myself in a secret passage. No one was paying attention and I had my penlight on me so I decided to explore. A bit filthy I suppose, but much more exciting than training." She begins to hum absentmindedly as we advance through the tunnels, appearing to go upward.

Her light falls on an ornate mirror on the wall. She leads me over and motions for me to peer through. The mirror is a trick mirror, it's actually a window that looks onto a hallway but no one in the hallway can see it. A guard strolls by, and doesn't even acknowledge me. This makes me grin. I suddenly feel like I've entered a storybook to experience a great adventure.

"Brilliant."

"I was looking through one like that further back and saw you. I sort of just acted before thinking and spun the shelf around." She says timidly.

"I'm glad you did Tayley, I'm glad you did."

We reach a brightly colored bullseye attached to the wall. It's the only thing I've seen that isn't coated in dust. Tayley's arrow sticks out of the middle ring proudly. She doesn't need to say a word. I grip the arrow firmly and raise it like a lever. Instantly, we are sprung forward back to reality. The training area fills my vision once more and so does the thought that I never actually did find the bathroom.

All I can say is, _only in the Capitol_.


	6. Chapter 4, Interviews

_Chapter 4, The Unluckiest Citizens of Panem_

_Interviews, The Capitol_

_**Henna Doe, District 7 Tribute **_

The endless city is completely polar to the forests of my home. Here in this metropolitan jungle, everything is extreme. The brightest blues, the green-est greens, the most flamboyant pinks. The vocabulary is different here as well. If I had shimmied around saying such things as "Fantabulous!" "Mucho Magnificent!" and "Bubbly Beautiful!" back home, people would lock me up.

But things are different here, this is the Capitol. Folks aren't practical like at home. Far from it actually. My stylists taught me that lesson when they'd boasted how many hours they'd spent putting together my "Sure-to-be-shocking" interview outfit. Six! Six hours. Shocking it is sure to be, especially for my parents.

My legs are completely bare; relief only comes at my mid-thighs where I have stretched the hem of my green mini-dress as far as it will go. The V-neck is low, but I have sheer sleeves to cover my arms to the wrists. My favorite part is the leafy-branch silhouettes that climb the left side of the dress. Below, I wobble in cork heels.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Panem, the Tributes!" a booming voice fills the air and makes it shake. The crowd goes wild as the lights come up on us. Twenty four hot spotlights focus on each tribute, the twenty-four unluckiest citizens in Panem. We are made-over and ready to be interviewed by the eccentric man who is trotting on stage.

How to describe Caesar? An orangutan stretched to man's height? This year he is a bright tangerine orange from his shiny suit to fluffy hair. Even his lips have been done in the color.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" he asks the crowd through his microphone, "Well ladies and gents, I'm going to open up to y'all. This is one of my favorite times during the Games. This, this is the time when each of these fabulous tributes will show us who they are. It is," he pauses to wipe a small tear, "a deeply personal experience for Panem. They will open themselves up, reveal what's inside and maybe snagging a few sponsors wouldn't hurt." He winks at us as the crowd laughs heartily. Now I am truly dreading this "deeply personal" experience.

"Without further ado my friends, the interviews!"

First up is that District 1 girl. Her skirt is shorter, her hair longer, her face more flawless than any of us. Maybe it's the ruby dress, the platinum hair or her glowing skin, but she appears as some kind of celestial goddess under the spotlights. Whoa, I'm getting way too ahead of myself here. Calm down. Just watch the interview and don't fall over.

I'll admit the girl (Jewlee is her name) has flirting and flouncing down to a science. She could probably publish a textbook on the subject. _Formula: Place hands on hips, open mouth to "O" shape and lift shoulder slightly, make sexy face and answer the question in a way that makes you seem secretive. Giggle, smile, repeat._

The final question puts every boy watching in the palm of her hand.

"Jewlee, before you go, you're such an attractive girl," Caesar turns to us and winks once more, "one of many. How do this year's male tributes measure up? Any pre- Games crushes you can share?"

"Well, there's a certain boy I had my eye on." She says serenely as she winks to the camera. The audience roars and the male tributes all smile secretively believing it is themselves she is talking about.

"How sad. We're out of time! Good luck in the Hunger Games Jewlee!" She bounces back to her seat.

The next tribute, Romulus Ares, doesn't have much to say. The interview soon becomes a boasting fest for his "great guns" and training score of 9. He needs it though, compared to Jewlee he's a grub on the leaf of a sunflower.

District 2 is next, and the tributes bother me. Adrienne is stick thin and pale. She has shoulder length, rippley dark brown hair that does nothing to mask the ice in her eyes. The boy, Malum, is no better. He continually glances at the girl during his interview, giving covert nods. The entire city feels ten degrees colder by the time he leaves.

Next up, District 3. Oh gosh, that poor pregnant girl. Charlyn pretty much sobs through her interview, occasionally blowing her nose on a handkerchief Caesar hands to her. How hard her life has been since she got pregnant, her father banishing her, the whole bit with the baby's father being too old to volunteer all does very well at jerking tears from the crowd. There go all of Jewlee's sponsors.

The boy from District 4, Scott Perseus, shakes throughout the interview. When Caesar finally asks him about it, he says he was bullied a lot back home. The thought of the bullies watching him on TV scares him.

"Just think Scott, you'll be able to return home a hero after theses Games. Provided you don't die of course." Caesar jokes.

"Yeah. Right." He gasps out between shakes, and then leaves before his time is up. Scott probably would be the tear-jerker had it not been for Charlyn's big belly.

My interview comes and goes. I keep it all smiles and avert questions that would make things deep (and ones about my training score of 3).

"Any Games strategies Henna?" is the final question.

"I'll take it moment by moment Caesar. Everything I do will be based on surviving the next moment. Because in the arena, that's how fast things can change."

"Well said, I wish you good luck."

"Thanks." I remember to say and quickly return to my seat.

A girl from District 10 named Megan seems to be off her rocker a bit. Her eyes are vacant during the interview; she appears simply a puppet with someone talking for her. I pray that's not what I looked like.

The next tribute to steal the crowd's hearts is Colt, a boy of seventeen also from District 10. He's handsome as can be, a second Finnik and by the end of the interview he has traded his wristwatch with Caesar in exchange for "a little sponsor help" in the arena. The girls go gooey-eyed and the boys wonder if that's even legal. Doesn't matter, Colt could probably convince everyone Adrienne is a kindred spirit and Jewlee is a hag.

"Y'all can tell a cowboy by the horse he rides. No matter if its horses, or women, or the tide of battle, nobody here rides half as well as I do," are his parting words to the crowd. It even leaves Caesar speechless.

"Ladies and gents, where farming is their pride and joy, District 11!" Caesar announces. The first girl, Pandora, is a Peacekeeper's daughter. The thin straps on her dress reveal old scars and bruises on her battered body. When Caesar presses her about her past, she brushes him off icily. Finally he gives up and cuts the interview short.

Nate Morgue is next. He doesn't say much, but somehow comes off mysterious and strong rather than guarded like Pandora. He has black hair and the lean body unique to District 11. One of his answers makes the crowd murmur thoughtfully.

"I don't know how, or when, but I am going to follow the Game's only rule: to kill or be killed."

When Nate is finished, a tiny girl from District 12 comes forward. Her name is Brie and she captivates the audience with her dreamy, innocent voice that relaxes me like a lullaby. I'm not sure what she said exactly, I'm not sure anyone really is.

Caesar ends the interviews with his bright white smile.

"Good night Panem, good luck tributes, and Happy Hunger Games!"

The lights on the stage go dark. The fun and games have ended.


	7. Chapter 5, Rainbow

_Chapter 5, Rainbow_

_62__nd__ Hunger Games Arena, ?_

_**Charlyn Thorn, District 3**_

"We love you Charlyn!" my stylists yell just loud enough for me to hear them within the glass elevator. Their tattooed arms are wrapped around each other's shoulders, their colorful bodies pressed together, waving and blowing kisses to me. Seeing them from above, they remind me of a bouncy, happy, living rainbow. Of course I could be dead wrong. I've only seen a rainbow once in my eighteen years as a resident of District 3. The day the smog-filled sky cleared just enough and the weather was just right, all of the District came out of their homes to stare straight into the heavens at the marvelous arched spectacle that had formed there.

That was the day Aidan proposed to me. The guy of my dreams proposing to me under my very first rainbow? Being closer to him than ever before later that night? Looking back now, it almost feels like a misty dream. Sometimes I wonder if Aidan or the rainbow or that night were even real in the first place. But a nice tough kick from the baby always reminds me that, yes, yes the horrible nightmare that followed is entirely true.

All too soon, my stylists disappear and I'm plunged into blackness. The elevator continues to climb steadily through the dark. I like the darkness's commanding grip on me. No choices for me to make. I'm tired of having to make choices. Choosing when to tell my father I was pregnant, choosing whether to keep the baby and the most painful choice, choosing between my father and Aidan. My choices flood back to me and form a confusing roadmap of pathways and criss-crossing arrows, blurry faces and regretful memories. I shut my eyes, I don't want to see anyone but Aidan. At this command, my tangled mind surprisingly complies. Soon he is standing in the dark elevator beside me. His image almost tangible.

His blue eyes, his brown hair, his faded freckles, each puzzle piece of Aidan relaxes my tired body. But there are missing pieces that my mind can't re-create. The feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle touch, his careful voice. Everything about him was gentle. The tears come once more as I watch him ripple back into darkness. Fading to the edges, he looks at me with thousand-ton sorrow as his eyes flush with tears, the way he looked at me during the reaping.

This year the reaping snuck up on me. I was so preoccupied with Aidan's proposal, the pregnancy and moving out that I forgot all about it until the morning of. Even then, it was my last year, and Aidan was already nineteen. If I hadn't been chosen yet, what were the odds I'd be chosen now? Then they called my name. After the past year, I truly believed there were no more tears left in my body. Ends up I was wrong. The sound of my name was like a piece of factory machinery coming down on top of me. The sorrow on Aidan's face was like the entire factory coming down. Weeks later, none of it has been lifted.

"_Memory, all alone in the moonlight, I can smile at the old days. I was beautiful then."_

A memory, pillow soft and candy sweet, comes from my mind. It glides in and wraps around me, pushing away all my sadness. The memory is nothing but a kind voice singing to me, but my mind produces it like a reflex every time sorrow threatens to crush me. It expands in my brain, leaving no room for sad.

I used to believe it was an angel in my head. It wasn't until I was eight that I found out what it really was. My father had thrown me into timeout, yelling and shouting about the shattered picture frames, courtesy of my soccer ball, all over the floor. As I was crying, the voice rose up from my mind like it always had. It comforted me so much I found myself singing along out loud. When I looked back at my father, he had tears in his eyes. The voice was my mother, Rianne, and the song was a lullaby she sang for me every night before she died. Rianne, I love to hear her name. On the other hand it's a curse because no matter how hard I try I can remember nothing but her voice singing me one song.

Sharply, the elevator stops its climb. The baby kicks, my heart thrums as I try to preoccupy my mind in any way possible. The arena is here. Now. I'm in the arena. There are one million things I have to fear and no time to think about them all. I decide to find comfort in the most comforting thing I know of.

I sing the song, over and over and I can feel the baby shifts softly at the sound, at its grandmother's words and its mother's voice. My soft whispers fill the elevator and float around it like bubbles. The memory swells from my head and wraps around me protectively. Gently, I run my hand over my belly. In that moment, I am safe.

There's a rumbling and the elevator trembles, breaking my memory's protection. Up and down, the elevator jerks sharply. I try to press myself up against the wall but it's not there anymore. Roaring fills my ears. A blinding white light fills the space. I cover my ears but the thundering doesn't stop. The elevator continues to shake violently. Someone screams, a girl, me. I am the one who is screaming. I crouch down to the floor as chaos surrounds me. Scared and alone.

Inside of me, my child screams too.

A booming voice sounds over the noise. Cold, commanding, yet somehow comforting in its familiarity. It is the voice of President Snow.

"Tributes! Welcome to the arena!" it booms as I am thrust into my nightmare.

"Welcome, to Snow's Games!" he speaks coldly.

**Hardest chapter EVER to write, hope you enjoyed! Sorry its a bit short, long arena chapter coming soon.**


	8. Chapter 6, Beatbeat

_Chapter 6, Beat-beat_

_The Cornucopia, The Arena _

_**Lucy Contessa, District 5 **_

After what seems like years, the white light fades out, the wind stops blowing and the ground stops shaking. My heart doesn't stop thrumming. It pulses hard, _beat-beat, beat-beat_.

I remove my sweating palms from my face and brush away my tousled hair. The arena materializes around me. It all shines brand new under a high noon-day sun and a pure blue sky. Those twenty-four metal disks that gave me nightmares, the massive golden horn of the Cornucopia. It all surrounds me, touchable, real.

I find that we are on top of a cliff rising from the end of the Arena like a horn. The cliff's mountainous neighbors stand behind us, forming a range that extends the length of one side of the arena. They are solid, made of steel gray rock capped with snow. On the opposite side of the cliff, behind the Cornucopia, a large spring, its water flowing over the side in a roaring waterfall.

Stretched beyond the waterfall I can see forests, meadows and a large lake spanning as far as the eye can see. It appears to last forever, but is probably Capitol tricks. The place seems too massive to be unknown to anyone.

And then there is the man, dwarfed by the Cornucopia and the landscape that spans out behind him. His arms are folded behind his back; his snake-like eyes study us. I want to turn my head, to look at the other tributes, to see their reactions to this enormous arena, or admire the beauty of the mountains. But I am too afraid to miss something. To be one of the unlucky tributes who dies on their circle in seconds. A silent minute drags by like an hour.

"Hello." President Snow says. "Welcome, once more, to the 62nd Hunger Games. I chose the arena, I chose the obstacles. But fate has chosen twenty four of you to face them and it has only chosen one to be the Victor. A strange reality isn't?" He pauses and sweeps over us with an iceberg gaze in his eyes. "All but one of you will die in this arena. Today, tomorrow the day after, twenty three of you will fall, some at the hands of others." A tense silence follows, _beat-beat, beat-beat_.

I think about Colt, the boy I thought I loved. Correction: The jerk I thought I loved. I picture myself putting him out, preferably painfully with something very sharp, followed by the ditzy Jewlee girl. I think about the fear in his eyes, the regret. I let malice bubble up inside me. But none of it will come. All I feel is mushiness from our kiss. Our kiss. His arms. _Beat-beat, beat-beat_. Forget about it Lucy, Colt himself said it best a few days ago. _"In your dreams Ginger."_

"Some of you may have noticed," he gestures the Cornucopia, "There is no food inside. The Cornucopia will provide nothing edible for you this year, at least, not by _our _standards." He chuckled coolly. "But do not despair. There is plenty of food in this arena," He opens his arms out wide; "You just need to know where to look." He narrows his eyes at Charlyn, "No sponsor food either," he sneers. "Now, I will leave and the countdown will start. When I return, I will be shaking one of you by the hand." Then he walks behind the Cornucopia and disappears.

A countdown begins in the sky, massive digital red numbers like daytime constellations. Thirty seconds. Twenty-nine. _Beat-beat. _Twenty-eight. _Beat-beat. _Twenty-seven. _Beat-beat_. Twenty-six. _Beat-beat_.

I tense and prepare to jump from my circle. I curl my hands into fists and push away fear. Adrenaline soars inside of me like millions of rockets, there are fireworks in my brain, comets in my feet. Sixteen. _Beat-beat. _Seventeen. _Beat-beat. _Suddenly it's hard to remember all ten siblings' names. Thirteen. _Beat-beat. _Twelve. _Beat-beat. _Eleven. _Beat-beat. _Ten. _Beat-beat. _Who are my parents?

Three. Two….

I freeze; life becomes a television stuck in black and white, rolling in slow motion. The clock flashes zeroes in the sky. Blink-blink-blink. Tributes run forward from their discs toward the towering Cornucopia. Waves ripple through my vision. My body is numb. I am a statue. I look down at my feet; underneath them is the silver disk. Disk? Something about that seems familiar, and then it stabs my frayed mind like a steak knife. Shouldn't I be dead?

No I am alive. At least I think I am. I can feel breeze, the sun on my neck. I can hear the scream as the girl from District 6 takes a gash across the forehead from a knife Romulus has found. I see her blood. I feel her pain. I feel, I am alive. My mind is an engine trying to start but nothing comes out but buzzing. I then make my decision to stand on the disk waiting to die. Someone will do it sooner or later.

"Lucy!"

_Beat-beat, buzzzzz, Beat-beat, buzzzzz_

"Lucy!"

What? I hear it once more over the buzzing. It couldn't be…

"Lucy!"

Snap. His voice is an ignition key and my engine roars to life.

"Lucy get off the disk!" he yells.

I notice a large bubble shaped glass closing over my disk. When did that get there? My mind's engine finally begins to run. I slide as nimbly as I came through the thin space left before the bubble completely attaches to the disk and seals. My feet hit the rock and ask my mind for direction. No answer. I have no plan. I pick a direction and decide to run.

Smack! I hit the solid chest of Malum, the District 2 boy. The corner of his mouth twitches evilly, then he spins me around with an iron grip on my elbows. Adrienne now stands in front of me holding a long jagged blade already stained with blood.

"Let's break your heart again, princess." She laughs over the other screams and yells, then thrusts the blade toward me as I brace for impact. The pain never comes. There's a loud roar as a broad shape tackles Adrienne. Colt.

He rips me from Malum's hold and practically throws me across the cliff. I land on my butt, chin deep in the spring, but alive. No cannons for me just the roaring of the falls. I look up and he's standing over me. His eyes studying me, his chest heaving forcefully. Then he grabs me roughly and raises my limp body to his eye level.

"I'm going to pretend to suffocate you then throw you over the falls. Make some choking sounds that should convince them." He whispers into my ear. Before I fully understand he has his hands loosely around my neck. He shakes me hard, but gently he holds back. "Cough." He orders roughly under his breath. I force out a few weak choking sounds before he shoves me over the waterfall with the words of "Don't scream, I love you." I plummet, stunned, yet alive.

The water is cold when I land. I look back up at Colt's figure above wondering what just happened. He makes a downward motion with his hands, figures of other tributes suddenly appear at his side. I dive below quickly like a scared fish and stay until my lungs scream and I am forced to peek up. Gone. I breathe a sigh of relief. A survival pack from the Cornucopia comes flying over the side and lands with a smack next to me like some heavenly gift. It bobs up and down in the swirling current. For a moment I am silent, treading water and staring at the pack.

"Going to share that by chance?" a voice behind me shouts. A soaked boy clings to a rock, his black hair dripping into his eyes. A bow and arrow is slung around his shoulder but he seems in no position to kill me and his eyes seem kind. I decide to trust him.

"Of course." I shout back over the falls. He smiles and extends his arm. Using the pack as a floatation device we paddle our way to land. Heaving, we pull our soaked bodies out of the pool and sit in exhausted silence on the edge. He is satisfied to find that his bow and a few arrows have survived. I turn my head behind us and study the woods.

"Best make for the trees." I say, thinking about Colt, "Best to stay out of sight." He nods and rises with me. "Careers will have to come down eventually for food." then extending my hand I say, "I'm Lucy by the way." He smiles.

"Nate. You kind of remind me of my girlfriend Lucy." He shrugs. "What about you, do you have a boyfriend", He blushes at his word choice, "not that I'm hitting on you or anything." I look back up at the cliff, the waterfall beneath the sun.

"Maybe." I smile.

We take turns carrying the pack, heading deep into the forest, changing direction constantly. We talk some, but not much. After an hour, we are too exhausted to continue. We settle at the base of a towering tree. Nate scales it to check the surroundings. I unpack the bag Colt so daringly threw to me.

I find: one full canteen, a sleeping bag, a short knife in a leather sheath, a small spyglass and a bottle of six white pills marked "PAIN-2". Of course there is no food. Re-packing the items and hiding them under leaves at the tree's base, I scramble up to Nate with the spyglass. He climbs quickly and easily like a squirrel, he even hums. It takes me eons to meet him at the top.

"Have a nice climb?" he asks me.

"Decent." I reply then show him the spyglass.

"Let's have a look at the careers then shall we?" he asks, extending it and pointing it toward the clearing above the waterfall.

Suddenly a rumbling fills the air, and I feel the tree shaking at its roots. A column of ash erupts from the top of the tallest peak. Fiery red glows at the base of the column, then begins to flow down the side.

"Volcano." I whisper, coughing as thin ribbons of ash swirl close to us.

"Lucy, look at this!" Nate exclaims, passing the spyglass to me.

Hurriedly I look through. The careers are scrambling about, grabbing everything in sight and chucking it over the waterfall. I see a stream of red lava rushing down toward the Cornucopia, threatening to swallow up all the careers in its simmering mouth. It chews up many of their supplies and scorches the ground with its heat. Hovercrafts appear and rescue five dead bodies from the ground. The living scramble frantically, shoving each other aside. One by one the careers slosh into the spring and jump from the edge, their mouths in O shapes, but I am too far away to hear anything. I am looking for Colt's broad figure as they plummet over the edge, when something else catches my eye.

Every disk has been covered with a clear glass bubble, just like the one that almost trapped me. But inside one of them, there is movement. A boy is trapped on his disk, he stands inside the glass bubble like a lone pet insect. He pounds at the walls and screams soundlessly. His face is desperate and terrified. I recognize it, the boy from District 4 who shook out of fear during his interview. He is trapped in a glass prison and has no choice but to surrender to the lava. It flows unnaturally, straight to his disk, it seeps under the glass into the bubble, rising to his ankles. He collapses into the fire, soundless pain still carved into his child-like face. I put the spyglass down, not wanting to watch him die.

Somehow I hear cannon fire above the roaring eruption.

The ash cloud moves on to the arena like a monster. The air becomes as gray as steel and thick like a wet, wool blanket stuffed down my throat. My lungs become boulders as they fill with ash and fire. My eyes sting as my vision clouds. I cough uncontrollably, fighting to take a breath. Just when I am about to give in and die in the tree, Nate finds me. Slowly, steadily he carries me down through the boughs to the ground, where the air is still heavy, but not suffocating. Gently, he splashes my eyes with water from the canteen and we take turns drinking and washing our faces. When my vision finally returns I realize how dark it has become.

Dusty blackness surrounds us, the ash hides the sun and coats everything in sight. My heart flutters in my chest at the sight, or better, lack of it. The feeling of being blind does not sit well with my panicked body. Colt crosses my mind as I begin to hyper-ventilate. Is he okay? Or did the careers find and kill him? Was I not convincing enough? What if he is dead because of me? And if I wasn't the cause, surely the volcano?

"What are we going to do?" I shriek desperately to no one in particular. Anyone could be out there, a mile, a foot away. Ready to end me. Ready to end Colt. Nate takes my arm and hushes me. I forgot he was there.

"Don't think anyone will be moving in this. Better just settle down." Nate whispers through the black.

"Ok." I answer, choking on my words as more and more ash settles on the ground. It had to be nearly noon, but the sun was already fading away as if it were night.

Fumbling and groping in the dyeing light, we finally pull away enough wet leaves and pine needles to create a small nook in between two of the tree's massive roots. We work quickly, but traces of light disappear faster than the leaves will. Soon deep coal darkness encases the entire forest.

Anxiously, we settle down inside the nook, spreading out the sleeping bag to cover the dirt. The air is dry, scratchy in our throats and dusty on our breath. Sleep is a laborious exercise. I struggle to breathe through the paper dryness that coats my lips and snakes down my throat. _Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Scr-scr-scratch. Cough, cough, cough._

We do our best to save the canteen, but the dry black heat is so unbearable that it's empty within hours. My body begs for water, my eyes for light. After countless hours, long after Nate has fallen asleep, sleep finally finds me too beneath the massive tree.

Just as I am slipping into unconscious, I see him. His brown eyes, his tanned face his chestnut hair. The lips move, forming the same words in silence over and over again. I try desperately to hear him, to hear the voice that is haunting me just one more time. But he is already falling away, still he continues to speak. Just as he has almost completely disappeared I hear his voice from somewhere far away, like he is shouting across an ocean.

"I love you."

_**Hey everyone, thank you so much for your reviews and words of encouragement. I never expected they would impact my writing so much. Planning to take a day soon to just visit all of my reviewer's profiles and read some of their works, hopefully my reviews help you as much as yours have been helping me. **_

_**TheaterDreamer: Thank you so much for that last review, made me smile for hours.**_


	9. Chapter 7, Deep Space

_Chapter 7, Deep Space_

_**Megan Treak, District 10 **_

"A tree falls in the forest, no one hears it, does it still make a sound?"

A girl dies in the Hunger Games, no one notices, does she still matter?

As my life slowly bleeds out of me on to the dirt, I wait for my life to flash before my eyes. I wait to feel that rush of regrets that people always talk about. But even when I know I have plenty, I can only think of one.

I never cried at my grandmother's funeral.

Memories of grandmothers for normal people often involve baked cookies and floral prints. They supposedly make one feel warm and fuzzy inside. I wouldn't know. My grandmother was hard as a rock and never made anything but cold pea soup.

When my mother and I would visit, she would always pull her real close, fix me with her icy glare and say,

"That one there, that daughter of yours, she's an odd one. Probably will end up on the streets selling herself."

Talk about encouraging advice. I didn't shed a single tear the day the old badger went and died. Not one. I didn't even try to look sad during the meager funeral our family was able to scrape together.

And no one had a problem with that. I was Megan, closed, isolated, different. I was an unpredictable meteor bouncing around in the tight solar system that was my family. Sometimes I would match them in their orbit, others I would speed away into deep space and disappear. That was when I would become dangerous.

I wondered. How would my family react to my dyeing? Would they be happy to lose the abnormality that was their youngest daughter? No more specialists' bills or therapy sessions, no more locked doors or pulled shades. Just a normal family with nothing left to hide. Planets in perfect orbit. I wondered as I drifted away.

A rumbling suddenly fills the air. Cannons. For me? Have I finally died?

But the rumbling is ceaseless is much louder than one hundred cannons. I still feel pain in my side, sharp and bleak. I smell my blood's metallic scent. I'm still alive.

The ground shakes rapidly and small cracks appear in the dirt. I wonder if it will simply open up and swallow me whole into the Earth. Soon the rumbling reaches an ear shattering volume, the sky above me becomes gray, and then rapidly turns totally black. Figures flash by above me, there are screams, shouts and curses bouncing through the air.

"Volcano!" I hear a voice shriek. Volcano? Was that the source of the roaring? The black ashen sky suddenly makes sense. Another thought occurs to me. Volcano didn't only mean roaring or ash, it also meant lava.

Painfully I turn my head to the mountain. A red river of lava has already pushed its way down the hillside with alarming speed. Soon it will reach me and fill the clearing like a bowl.

A spark lights in my brain. Move.

Wincing I begin an awkward belly crawl across the dirt towards the waterfall. Blood drips out of my side and trails behind me like a ribbon. My throat and eyes cloud with ash and dirt. More sparks in my head. A strict order from my brain: move faster.

Panting in the rising heat, I drag myself along with elbows at a pathetic speed, my wound screaming, I shriek out in pain. Soon I am exhausted but have made little progress. Tears stream down my face. I am ready to lie down, to be burned, to die. I close my eyes and feel my body begin to rise.

Blackness. Silence. Deep space.

I sleep.

Endless hours of deep space. I cry.

I am all alone.

When my eyes open, I see dancing shadows. Small and flickering shapes against a deep orange light. What makes that shade of orange? What makes those changing shadows? I can't remember. Something warm, something that comes from wood, something I've seen before. I turn my head. At its very sight its name comes to me. Fire.

How did I get here? The last memory I have is of surrendering to the lava. I should be dead. Am I dead? I run my hands down my abdomen and feel my skin, muscles and bones all intact. I feel my chest rise as I breathe my heart beating beneath my skin. I am alive after all. But how?

I touch something different, a line of small bumps that begin beneath my rib and curve down to my hip. They are strange to my body. Strange to my touch.

"Don't undo those." A voice says. I see a face, and then an entire body can be made out beside the fire. A girl, the speaker I presume, tall, with ink black hair. She smiles at me.

"Where am I?" I manage to gasp out.

"I'm not sure exactly. Somewhere deep in the forest. Don't worry, I made sure we got as far away as we could from those awful careers," she nods to my abdomen, "You had a nasty cut, I used some plant fibers to stitch it up and I also put some aloe on your burns."

"You…?" I trail off unexpectedly. Thoughts come rushing in from all sides of my head making it hard to focus.

"Saved you," she says poking the fire, "I tripped over your body as I was running. I just couldn't leave you there so I dragged you along and took you over the falls with me. Then I just sord of half ran half stumbled along with you through the forest." She looks back to me and smiles. "I don't think I could have made it without you."

I must have looked puzzled because she jumps to explain.

"You kept talking you see. Saying 'keep going' and 'don't give up'. I pulled up all my strength and ran until I dropped."

A long silence follows as I soak everything in. I search more any memories of this happening, but all my mind musters is blackness. I notice the girl is still looking at me.

"I'm Hanna. From 9."

"Megan, 10." I answer vacantly, running my fingers over the delicate, tight stitches that hold me together. There is a silence filled only by the crackling of embers.

And suddenly, it all hits me too hard. It is all too much. I am suffocating underneath the weight of it all, the very air seems heavy.

A buzzing sound nudges my mind. A mental avalanche of memories begins to bang its way from front to back, left to right. Buzzing, spinning. Tiny cracks appear in my vision. I am beginning to break

"I was thinking we could stick together. The arena is a dangerous place. Of course there's no need to tell you that…"

She prattles on as I fight to listen, to focus, to stay in orbit. But deep inside of me, chains are being broken and locks are coming undone. I am spinning. Spinning out of orbit. Spinning into deep space.

No. I cannot leave the tight orbit of sanity. Not now. Not when there is no one to strap me down and lock me away for a few days. I fight fight fight fight fight. But it is futile.

"Are you hungry?" she asks. I manage to nod despite the internal war that is waging. Then she does a terrible thing. A horrible thing. A thing that would make the ice-handed doctors and snake-eyed psyches cringe.

"Take this," she hands me a knife, shiny with a curved metal handle, "The bark on this tree is edible, scrape some off and try it."

I take the knife in my hand forcing it not to shake. I stand and walk over to the tree. Everything is fine. I am a normal girl. My mind is thinking about using this knife to find food. Nothing else.

My blood feels hotter than lava. I want to step back, to let another side of myself take over. To spin into deep space and never come back out.

I take the knife, scratch away some bark and eat it. I am a normal girl who is hungry and the bark does well to curb my stomachs growling. I sit down by the fire and we munch away on the tree bark, slap mosquitoes and talk about petty things.

How perfectly normal we are. How wonderfully average. Two girls in a perfect, sane orbit.

_Liar, liar pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire._

I am spinning. Faster and faster out of orbit. The darkness of deep space is coming closer and closer. I raise the knife and pull it down the side of the tree. A long trail of bark rolls off. With every second I get further and further away. Further from orbit, from safety and normality. I am spinning into deep space.

I turn back to the girl. She is facing away from me, looking into the fire. Good, she won't see the wild look in my eyes. A creature with no morals or rules, just insanity and a black heart.

I can see her lying on the ground. Long lines of blood decorating her arms. Her throat slit, her chest opened. Her heart thumping away its final beats. I want to pierce her perfect flesh. I want. I want. I want.

I surrender.

_**Nate Morgue, District 11**_

I am woken from my wonderfully romantic dream about Bella (no I am sharing any details!) by the sound of cannons in the distance. I open my eyes to see a clear night sky above me, full of blindingly bright stars. Not a speck of ash in sight, as if the volcano never happened. I marvel at the sky from my place beneath the tree. I breathe in fresh, clean air that hours before I would've been hacking on.

Only in the-

The piercing chords of the Panem anthem ring through my ears. I reach over and rouse Lucy who is equally surprised by the clarity of the sky. The seal appears and the pictures begin to materialize.

First to come is the boy from 3, then Scott, the boy from 4 who was trapped like an insect on his disk. Next are the girls from 6 and 7, followed by the boy from 8, the girl from 9 and finally the boy from 12. Then the pictures stop and the night sky returns once more.

We are silent for a long time, shivering in the cold, making clouds with our breaths. Only six tributes are dead. The smallest bloodbath I could remember, which meant sixteen tributes were still out there in the darkness. Another shiver that has nothing to do with the cold runs down my spine. Then ears trained to hear the ground picker's calls from the tops of the tallest trees hear a noise far away in the forest, tucked in tightly with the sounds of nighttime wildlife.

Footsteps. Close and getting closer. A flashlight's beam flits around through the trees.

As quietly as possible we flatten ourselves to the muddy ground in between the trees massive roots. My heart pounds as the flashlight beam traipses over and around us, just skimming the tops of our heads which stick up over the root.

Voices.

_**R.I.P **_

_Simon Draker_

_Scott Perseus_

_Bailey Fantine _

_Henna Doe_

_Pic Jericho_

_Hanna Bines_

_Roc Hertz_


	10. Chapter 8, Angels

_Chapter 8, Angels_

_In the arena of the 62__nd__ Hunger Games there were many clearings. _

_Dozens dotted the massive forest, others the sweeping meadows and still others around the streams, springs, and waterfalls. Yes, the largest arena ever built was full of little clearings. _

_But as President Randal E. Snow settled down with a tall glass of brandy in his massive four poster bed, the screen flickering in front of him, he was only watching one little clearing. _

_There were five tributes in this clearing. Two were aware of four of its occupants, two were only aware of eahother, only one was aware of all five. _

_He was a tall gaunt boy from District 5. Overlooked at first but now…_

_President Snow smiled and increased the audio volume as the camera zoomed in on the boy's face._

_Scat Willhope blinked back into the camera, unaware that tonight he would be the president's evening entertainment. _

_**Scat Willhope, District 5 **_

My palms sweat, making it hard to grip the branches of the tree I am hiding within. Inside my chest, I feel an erratic heartbeat. _She's never coming back. She's never coming back. _

In frustration I grip the side of my head. Clutching tufts of red hair in my shaking fists. I pant. She will come back. She has to.

I have never been a patient person. When I was young…

No. Stop. Right there.

Flashbacks of my childhood lead to memories of my birth parents. Good memories full of birthday cakes and tricycles. Not that I don't enjoy remembering those times, they just make my life right now seem even worse and miserable. And life with Jon and Faya Willhope is no cakewalk to begin with.

Despite my best efforts they both appear, floating around in the branches of the tree beside me. Their twisted faces cackle and their voices are nasal and dry.

"The Hunger Games huh? I suppose reaping you was the best thing the Capital ever did." Faya, my mommy dearest's, last words to me come from her bloated lips on her bony floating head.

"Knew you'd never amount to anything boy." Jon says in his dark metallic voice. Grimy face floating in the tree, he begins to laugh and Faya joins in, cackling her non-existent heart out. I swing at both of their heads and hit nothing but air. Somehow it satisfies my fists and I calm down. But Faya's witch-like laugh still echoes in my brain. I really just want to-

"-kill her."

A voice comes from the clearing. For one small mili-second I think it might be her voice and that she's returned safely. But any small hope I can muster up is crushed when I see two figures standing in the clearing, their faces partly illuminated by a flashlight. The other two figures that were huddled behind the root have now almost completely slunk into the darkness to hide from the clearing's newest visitors.

I limit my breaths to small, short pants and try to remain perfectly still even as a beetle crawls up my arm. I try to focus and keep my heart slow. A fast heartbeat means I'll see ghosts. And not only see ghosts, talk to ghosts and Faya and Jon don't like it when I talk to ghosts.

"…sometime at night… who's going to stop us?"

_Idiot! _Faya and John aren't even here. They're thousands of miles away. _Calm down. _The two figures whisper on in the clearing. Small gray shapes pop up on the edges of my vision. Ghosts. Oh no. Faya and Jon don't like that. They'll punish me. I can't be seeing them right now.

"_Eat some strawberries, they'll help you." _A whisper flies from the dark mouth of a ghost.

"I don't like strawberries though." I respond without thinking. The two figures in the clearing stop for a moment then go back to talking.

No. No. I shouldn't have said that. Faya and Jon won't like that. I stare at the cuts on my hands and remember Faya's preference of opening up the ones I already have. Jon hitting the same places over and over again. My heartbeat quickens and the ghosts all start talking at once.

Then I see her.

Pandora is in the clearing now too, but she is struggling in the arms of the meaty boy from District 1. When I see Pandora the ghosts disappear and my body relaxes. Pandora understands. She sees ghosts sometimes too.

When a petite black-haired girl enters the clearing, the two voices abruptly stop their conversation. Her voice is quieter, like a nighttime breeze.

"Romulus and I caught her snooping around camp. Almost made off with three of our packs. Seems like she was looking for food," the girl says this I notice that the inky black night is fading, and a deep purple color now fills the sky. The flash light rises to meet the new figure's faces. I see that the two voices are the tributes from 2, the smaller girl is Thalia, from 4 and the two hiding figures have made significant progress at sneaking away.

The girl from 2 laughs at Thalia's words. Then she leans in close to Pandora.

"We're starving too girlie." She sneers then turns to the other tributes, "Should we eat her?"

"Adrienne!" the boy from 2 protests, his dark features becoming even darker.

"Just a joke Malum." She says sweetly then nods to Romulus. Wordlessly his massive knuckles tighten around Pandora's throat. She gasps. I desperately look for options, but I'm trapped in the tree about to watch my only friend, no wait, more than a friend, die.

"Get Colt and Jewlee. See if you can tear them apart long enough to come down here. Tell Adam to stay at the camp." Adrienne orders Thalia, who runs off immediately. Romulus tightens his grip as Pandora begs for air.

"Where are your friends? I know you've got a whole pack of rats somewhere out there." Adrienne hisses.

"Don't- kn-know any-any-anything!" Pandora shrieks, "C-came al-a-alone!" Adrienne ignores her.

"Oh were those three packs all for you then? A little selfish isn't it?" Adrienne pulls a knife from her pocket and spins it around on her fingers and sliding it down close to Pandora's throat she says, "Where are they?"

Pandora's eyes fill with terror, and for three seconds, flit to my face in the tree. No career takes notice as she gives me a look of desperation and mouths _"Run!" _

Run? I refuse. No matter how far I run I'll still hear her cannons, see the hovercraft come to pick up her body, see her face on the next evening's slideshow. Pandora's face will haunt me forever if I run. I convince my mind that she mouthed _"Save me" _and, keeping the ghosts, Jon and Faya at bay, begin to form a plan. It's haphazard and risky, but it's the best I can do.

The two hiding figures are slowly making their way across the edge of the clearing toward my tree. Perfect. I begin to loosen a branch from the trunk; slowly not wanting it to snap, but the branch refuses to come loose.

I'm still struggling with it when Thalia, Colt and Jewlee arrive. I don't look up again until Pandora finally screams.

She is laying on the ground now, trickles of blood running down her cheek and arms. Her head is being gripped by Jewlee's hands, while Adrienne is sitting on her chest, stained knife raised. Jewlee is running her nails through Pandora's hair. Putting it up, pulling it back, braiding it, she laughs as she does this. Colt stands grimly off to the side, now holding a shiny black gun in his hands and pointing a flashlight beam at the ground, studying leaves and dirt. Thalia is next to him, her eyes unfocused. Pandora shrieks again.

"Come on!" I grumble under my breath, twisting and pulling at the bendy wood that refuses to detach. The two figures have almost made it, soon they will disappear into the night and I will lose my chance to save Pandora. My body pulses like a drum, ghosts surround me; they stand and watch me struggle. Some laugh.

"You guys could at least help me!" I exclaim at the dusty silhouettes that surround the tree. It was too loud, and Colt turns to look up into the tree, his light coming dangerously close. I freeze, I see Pandora sigh heavily beneath Jewlee's manicured hands.

The two figures have made it across the edge of the clearing and are now crouched beneath my tree. To the sound of another scream from Pandora, I finally rip off a bough and throw it to the ground below. It makes a satisfying racket as it tumbles downward and lands with a thud beside them.

Thalia and Colt immediately turn again. The flashlight's harsh beam suddenly illuminates both of the figure's bodies. Colt's eyes become like a rabbit's in the light as he stares at his catch, the gun shakes in his hand. A boy and a girl, their backs are to me, but one looks like Lucy, my fellow tribute from 5.

"Colt please!" Lucy shrieks. This makes everyone in the clearing turn to face them; I watch a slight slack in Jewlee's grip. But she doesn't let go. Romulus cracks his knuckles.

"Colt!" Adrienne commands sharply as she stands up.

Stiffly he raises the gun and points it at Lucy and the boy who are both frozen in the beam's glare. But his hand shakes wildly, as he stares into Lucy's eyes, an internal war raging inside his head.

He doesn't fire.

"Colt!" This time it is Jewlee, eyes narrowed, hands in fists, but gladly, no longer on Pandora. Who is beginning to elbow crawl toward the underbrush, the focus no longer on her. A feeble attempt, but if I could just reach her in time I could carry her to safety. I carefully begin a slow and silent descent from the tree.

"Fire Colt!" Adrienne barks, now standing behind him. Nothing.

The clearing is suddenly filled with tense silence, tense like an arrow string ready to snap back. Everyone is frozen like a statue, each waiting for the other to act.

Lucy's eyes daring Colt to shoot, a fire burning inside of her.

The gun clicks as Colt pulls off the trigger guard with his finger. His eyes like hot coals. He readies his fingers on the trigger.

Lucy inhales, the boy takes her wrist. They cringe and wait for the shot.

There is a soft bump, magnified a billion times in the suspense. Colt drops the gun. It hits the ground with a soft thud.

The boy instantly takes off into the night, his feet hardly touching the dirt. Lucy stays and watches Colt with sad eyes, a shocked expression on her freckled face. She breathes. He breathes. Their eyes locked.

Romulus moves to pick up the gun and aims to shoot. Once Lucy realizes this she takes off like a frightened deer after the boy. Romulus fires anyway. Two shots ring out into the darkness. Only silence follows.

Colt drops to the ground, trembling.

"AHHHHrrrrrggggggg!" Adrienne's lips curl back as she yells in rage. Seeing Pandora on the ground, she grabs her by the back of her collar and yanks her back up. In one smooth motion, Adrienne slashes her knife across Pandora's porcelain face. A tortured cry echoes from her lips, turning my body to stone at the base of the tree.

"You." Adrienne growls, turning away and stalking toward Colt who is still curled up on the ground. Thalia moves in front of him, her small hands in fists, only to yanked easily aside by Malum who makes no move to restrain Adrienne. Jewlee doesn't protect Colt either, she only stares at him, hip cocked, lips snarling in disgust. But I am not watching them.

Ice is filling my veins. No. Alarms pierce inside my head as it clouds with fog. No. Not her. Anyone but her.

"Noooooo!" I roar. I charge into the clearing to the sound of bullets ringing out. Romulus fires round after round at me but I don't care. I'll run through a million bullets for her.

Pandora lies on ground, her eyes shut. Blood drips from the deep gash across her face. Her chest doesn't move, she only lies there, still like a broken doll.

The clearing goes silent as they watch me. Watch me kneel over her. Watch me take her bloody face in my hands. Watch her glassy eyes open at my touch.

"Scat." She whispers weakly, her mouth curls into a frail smile. "You stayed."

"I'll never leave you." I whisper back. A sorrowful look spreads across her face.

"But I must leave you now." She says, her breathing becoming labored.

"Please Pandora. Just hang on. Please. Please don't die." I weep. My tears drip on to her paling face. I gently wipe them away. Then I lean close to her and ever so gently, press my lips to hers. Under the early morning sky I share my first and last kiss with Pandora Dredwin. It's soft and pure, but an electric rush at the same time. What I would give to make it last forever. Finally, I pull away. Her eyes widen and she gasps.

"What's wrong? Do you see ghosts?" I ask frantically, taking her hand.

"No," she breathes, "Angels."

A soft, sweet smile spreads across her face as she speaks her last word.

**_R. I. P_**

_Pandora Dredwin _


	11. Chapter 9, Hunt

_Chapter 9, Hunt_

_**Thalia Maddock, District 4**_

Every citizen of Panem was watching. I could feel it. The prickling in my spine, the shaking at me knees. All were watching, waiting to see who would fall next.

Above us, the sky was a color of silvery pre-dawn. We were all dressed entirely in camouflage gear; the four of us must have looked like a group of lost midget hunters. The shirt sleeves were rolled at our wrists, the pants tucked and the helmets bobbled on our heads. Still we moved in a single final line as stealthily as we could through the thick woods. Malum leading, Jewlee in the back, Adrienne and I squeezed in the middle.

"This is ridiculous!" Jewlee finally exclaims, stopping and throwing her helmet to the ground. Somehow she still looks like a goddess under the muddy brown color of the gear. She leans back on a skinny tree and exhales so her bottom lip buzzes.

Malum stops the group and turns, a brown hunting rifle in his hands, also from a pack.

"What's wrong now Jewlee?" he asks slightly irritated.

"I'm so hungry!" she cries. Carelessly, she plucks two red berries from a bush and moves to plop them into her mouth. I slap them sharply from her hand. Suddenly everyone is staring at me.

"Berries of the Daphne plant are poisonous," I explain, my face blushing. Jewlee groans and slumps over.

"Is there anything to eat in this stupid, stupid forest?" She yells so loudly a flock of birds take off from a nearby tree. Malum stare at them forlornly.

"Maybe if you didn't scare away every single animal we come across we could be back at camp eating right now," he snaps. Jewlee looks at him, one perfect eyebrow raised in act of revenge.

"Do you even know how to use that?" she snides, gesturing to the rifle.

"Sure, of course I do." He says fingering the weapon. "You just pull this here, and then put your finger here and-"

He is cut off as the rifle suddenly lets loose a crack and fires into the sky. There is a loud boom and a burst of red, followed by a trail of smoke and a burning stench.

"Forgot the safety wasn't on…" he grumbles, setting it down. He looks to Adrienne, whose black-brown eyes are deep in thought. Adrienne is sort of the unofficial leader of the career pack. She makes all the decisions and no one ever challenges them. Well, except for Colt. But he is long gone now. Even Jewlee has erased him, I woke up today to find that she and Romulus are now a couple, as if Colt never even existed. I seem to be the only one missing him.

I look around at the four of us dressed in too big gear tromping through a forest, wearied by three long hours of nothing. Colt would've found a better plan by now. I'm sure of it.

"I don't think this hunting thing is going to work." I speak the very sentence that has been on the tips everyone's tongues for the past hour.

"Yeah, I mean whose dumb idea was this in the first place?" Jewlee grumbles. She instantly regrets it when Adrienne shoots her an angry glare. But even she can't make up for the fact that we aren't going to catch anything without Colt. Despite all this, a smile somehow spreads across Adrienne's sharp face.

"Maybe we're just hunting the wrong kind of animal," She grin maliciously at a large tree about two hundred yards away. I can practically see little squeaky wheels turning inside of her mind. "Thalia." She snaps, "What are these?" she gestures to a large patch of shrubs, some flattened down by our crawling.

"Blueberry bushes," I respond, recognizing the leaves, "But they don't have any-"

"Berries, that's right." Adrienne says still smiling knowingly, "_Should _they have berries?" I think about the current season and nod carefully.

"Someone's been here before us." Malum finishes. Adrienne's grin widens.

"Not only have they been here, but they're still here." Lifting a finger to her lips to quiet us, she points to the tree. A path of picked-clean bushes, empty squirrel's nests and dug up rabbit dens point at it like a flashing arrow. I see a movement, right where the branches split. A flash of blonde hair, a blurred face. Someone was in the tree. And they had food.

_**Adam Turner, District 7**_

The crack of a gunshot pulls me from sleep. Frantically I sit up expecting a full out battle, but only find a quiet camp covered in light, morning mist. Romulus has his back to me, firing a handgun at the trunk of a very unlucky tree. The wood splinters with every shot and shells carpet the ground around him.

Amazing, that guy is. Five minutes in to the Games, he's murdered three people. Later that night he takes shots at three more, after that he's canoodling with his new girlfriend and now before dawn, he's doing more target practice. You would think the guy would eventually just collapse from exhaustion.

"Oy! You're gonna waste our ammo! Adrienne won't be happy." I call to him between shots. He looks at me, not lowering the gun.

"Adrienne will be happy when I shoot every single rat in this dam arena that ever gave us trouble." He says, firing again. Under his breath he chuckles, "Then I'll shoot her."

We continue as dawn grows closer, Romulus firing endlessly, while I clean up the camp and coax the fire back up. I'm stacking up the sleeping bags when a faint sound touches my ears. I hear it once more. A scream sounding somewhere in the woods.

"Stop that." I yell to Romulus, who lowers his gun. I hear it again, even clearer. Shrieking, followed by hurried footsteps and a savage yell. I wait, and it starts again. More shrieking, and the sound of someone running closer and closer.

"That suckers about to-" Romulus doesn't finish because a boy bursts through brush right into our clearing. The sight of our camp makes him stop cold. His hand goes to the necklace around his broad neck. He pants heavily, soaked in sweat.

Crack-boom!

A hole appears in the boys head, there's not even time for him to bleed as he falls to the ground instantly. I look to Romulus, the barrel of his raised gun still smoking in his hand.

Cannons fire in the distance.

"I wonder what he was running from?" I think aloud. Seconds later, there is another savage yell from the woods. This one is closer, louder and wilder than ever. Romulus sets down his gun to turn back towards the woods. A blurry shape springs out and slams into his chest. He hits the ground with a thud.

My first thought is an animal. A cougar, a bear, a dog, something with enough power to take down Romulus. But the attacker's flailing arms and savage shrieks tell me different. This attacker is human.

Romulus roars and tries to throw the attacker off, but they hang on to his muscular limbs like a parasite. He thrashes about wildly, but the thin body stays, biting and scratching, worst of all, screaming.

With another sharp thrash of his arm, Romulus throws the attacker from his body. They land hard and roll across the clearing. A whimper escapes their mouth as they lie still. Now with his back to them, Romulus comes to his hands and knees panting. His left eye is scratched and bleeding. He fumbles around for the gun, but apparently cannot see. I'm frozen solid as I watch him cringe at his movements, blood dripping from his face. How? How did anyone find a way to hurt him?

There's another shriek. The attacker has stood up, a blood stained knife raised in their hand. In three boundless strides they cross the clearing to Romulus. Before a warning escapes my throat, they plunge the knife into his back. I watch Romulus collapse to the dirt, shiver, then go completely stiff.

I honestly believe I'm hallucinating when I hear cannons fire. Moments of heavy silence follow. I stare from across the clearing at Romulus' lifeless body.

How? Who?

Then the attacker slowly begins to rise. They tremble violently, then their body straightens all the way up. Our eyes lock, time stops. I study the face of Romulus's murder.

A young girl stares at me from behind a mess of wild brown hair. Torn, blood-stained clothes hang on her thin body. Old white scars cover her collarbone. Her hands tremble around the handle of a knife. Her breathing is fast and erratic. I stare at her. She stares back. Her limbs thin, her cheekbones prominent.

Everything is wrong. How did this thin little girl kill the brick wall that was Romulus? What lived inside of her mind that caused her to even try? When in nature did the prey ever attack the predator before the predator even started hunting?

More seconds pass, and the girl's eyes become soft, like molten chocolate. She looks at Romulus and gasps in terror when she sees the bloody knife in her hand, as if seeing it for the first time.

"Help me." She whispers. "Help me, I can't stop it."

"St-st-stop what?" I stutter.

"Help me, help me please!" Her voice grows more desperate. Her eyes become wild, her neck snapping back, her face looks to the sky. She screams. Her voice is shrill and blood-curling.

My mouth hangs open, my ears ringing from the sound. Time stands still, the clouds cease movement and the birds go silent. The entire world seems to be holding its ears.

Suddenly, she stops. Slowly she lowers her face to mine. Her eyes are no longer gentle, but stormy and dark. She raises the knife once more and fixes her savage glare on me.

_**Thalia Maddock, District 4**_

Dawn was just beginning when we decided to put our plan into action.

"I don't understand why I couldn't have just shot him from here," growled Malum resentfully.

"Because," Adrienne snaps, "You would miss." She turns to me, and we lock eyes. "Don't mess this up, we're counting on you." I nod, thoughtless for words. I was only thinking of the plan and how much of it depended on me. Adrienne nods to the scrap of balled up material in my hand. "Go then, be quick about it."

There are no more parting words as Malum and I silently set out toward the tree. We use the leafy green cover of shrubs and grass to our advantage, silently slipping through the woods. One set of cannon fire echoes in the distance before we reach our parting point. The rifle trembles in his hands.

"Don't worry," I tell him, placing my hand on his, "This will work." He only nods, smiles at me sadly, and turns to set off toward the left of the tree, I begin my trip to the right.

The balled up material seems to grow heavier and heavier in my hands. I begin to make my across the woods toward the tree, stepping around dead branches and avoiding thorny shrubs I don't breathe again until I've reached my place undetected.

From my vantage point, I can see the boy much better through the thick green leaves. He has a lean muscular body, blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He sits in the tree, at a broad place where the trunk splits into three boughs. He is surrounded by furs which he has pinned on to the bark. Knotted cloths overflow over the flap of his small waterproof pack. I imagine the berries and nuts they must be teeming with and my stomach gives a sharp hungry clench. I also smell meat, juicy and plump, the cloth in my hand becomes heavier. Then I see it. His canteen. Haphazardly slung around a branch, hanging low and out of his sight. A little surge of Adrienne flows in my veins. Perfect.

All that is left to do is wait. Through a curtain of leaves I study him. The boy has now turned completely in my direction, which makes my pulse pound. His eyes seem to slice down the forest's cover, straight to my hiding place. I shiver and keep as still as possible, trying not to think of what is about to happen. Waiting.

A gunshot rings through the forest, making me flinch. Malum. The boy turns away from me, toward the sound. I take this opportunity to scramble quickly toward the tree trunk. At the tree's base, the boy is out of view, but his canteen hangs down, tantalizingly close, only ten feet up. I inhale, giving the material in my hand a squeeze before placing it in my mouth. At Malum' second shot I begin to climb. Steadily up the tree, I move as silently as possible.

The tree's bark is smooth and dry, making it hard to grip. The only branches this low are thin and snap easily. More shots pound out, a third, a fourth, a fifth? I lose count. My teeth bite down hard on the material between my lips. My progress is slow, too slow. My time is limited. I'll be noticed any second now.

I keep climbing, three more gunshots ring out before I reach his canteen. I place my feet on two of the sturdiest looking branches I can find. Silently I pray that they will hold. Hooking my elbow around another branch to keep me steady, I grasp his canteen with my hand. Inches above my head, the boy shifts his position keeping watch for the mysterious shooter.

With my free hand I unscrew the cap and peer inside. The spring water is clean, but still a little brackish looking. Good. The boy shouldn't taste or see anything different until it's too late. I remove the cloth from my mouth. Clumsily, I unfold it, spilling a fine powder into the water. Crushed oleander plants. I found a whole patch of them growing in the forest. Also some purple nightshade and wild tomato leaves. All poisonous to ingestion.

Death will be inevitable.

The last of the powder falls into the canteen. I carefully screw it back on and let it dangle again. Seconds after I put it back, a broad hand grasps the strap and pulls it up. The tip of an elbow brushes against the top of my hair.

I freeze. The arm pauses for a moment, then disappears back into the tree. I allow myself a quite exhale of relief. Won't be long now.

I hear the cap come off, a faint gurgling sound. My heart drums in my chest. I place my hand there to feel it. I think about the fact that this boy's won't be beating much longer. I wait, counting each minute as it slugs its way by.

There's a thump as the boy drops the canteen and begins to hack away. He curses in a rough voice. His hacking grows louder and more labored. Gagging, he begins to feel around desperately in the tree. This time his hand lands right on my head. He shoves aside the leafy branches.

Suddenly his blue eyes are staring at me, burning in my skin.

"Hey!" he growls. I cling to the tree, to afraid to move. Our eyes lock together for four long seconds. Then his pupils shrink, his brilliant blue irises disappear, replaced by cold dead white. He shakes violently, his chest collapsing over his body, then, without another word, tumbles and falls to the ground. There's a sickening crack, then heavy labored breathing. I stare down at him, counting his last seconds.

Eleven.

Cannons fire.

I climb back down to the ground. I see Malum and Jewlee have emerged from hiding. They stand shoulder to shoulder, facing me, staring.

Their blank expressions stop me dead in my tracks. The tail end of a hushed conversation in the dark of last night echoes inside my head. My mind fills with dread as I wonder where Adrienne is. A second passes and I get my answer.

"Thanks so much Thalia," her voice darkly sweet in my ear, "_We _will enjoy the food."

Suddenly her icy fingers are clamping around my throat, constricting away my oxygen. The movement is practiced almost repetitive for her. I legs kick back wildly. My oxygen slips away, my vision going spotty. I struggle with all my strength, but her iron grip grows tighter. My mouth opens into a soundless scream. I claw at her fingers desperately as my lungs beg for air. Voices, faces, sounds as blur together into a meaningless mush as my brain shuts down.

My mind plunges into pitch black. It's dark and scary, but also numb. Here my head does not pound, my chest doesn't ache. Like stepping from coals to a cold stream. Shutting my eyes, I surrender to the darkness.


	12. Chapter 10, Snow's Gift

_Chapter 10, Snow's Gift_

"_Would like to do the honors sir?" the technician asked. _

_President Snow nodded, trying to hide his eagerness. Giving the screens on the wall one last look, he then placed his finger on the blinking blue button. Inhaling with excitement, he pressed down. _

_An insignificant beep sounded from the machine and the blue button began to glow. A whirring sound began, slowly picking up speed._

"_Deployment successful" a technician said. President Snow smiled and turned to face the screens once more. _

_**Nate Morgue, District 11**_

Soft kisses caress my face, pulling me from sleep. _Bella, _I think. Slowly I open my eyes, filled with so much desire to see her face again. But it's not Bella's face I see. It's the cloudy gray above, and the caresses are not kisses, but snowflakes.

Startled, I sit up all the way. The snow falls in a soft flurry around us, dusting everything with white, and sparkling like sugar. I notice Lucy has also awoken. She sits up slowly and I see pain in her eyes. We've hardly spoken to one another since we fled from the careers at the clearing. She is always thinking about Colt, I can see it in her eyes and the way she whispers about him in her sleep. I want to tell her to forget him because he's probably dead, but I don't have the heart to. I suppose I'd be the same way if Bella were in the Games.

I decide to forget the drama for a while and think about something far more important, food. We've hardly been able to find anything other than the occasional berry patch or dead fish along the banks of a stream we passed. There is a slight abundance of small game, squirrels, rabbits and little mice, but there are often faster than my shot and we can't afford to lose anymore arrows.

The snow picks up speed as it collects on the ground around us, beginning to cover it. An idea sparks in my mind. I grab our canteen and let the snow fill it with fresh water. It may not be Capitol standards, but its water nonetheless. I grin as our canteen slowly becomes wet again.

I hear Lucy's startled gasp behind me. She is staring wide-eyed at a red-haired boy who has just emerged from behind a thicket of bushes. I see that he is the red-haired boy from the clearing last night. His body is bloodied, especially on his leg where a piece of cloth is haphazardly tied around a gruesome, infected bullet wound. He stares at me, his eyes as blank as a sheet of paper. Our pack lies open at his feet but his hands are empty. His body shakes all over. I realize what he really wants. Food.

Instinctively, I want to reach out to this boy with open arms. I want to tell everything will be alright and tell him there is plenty here to share. I've seen a slew of starving beggars in District 11. No matter who they were, they were always welcomed into our tiny farmhouse and given a few square meals. Mom always insisted on it.

But this is not home. And Lucy and I have nothing to share. The boy is not a neighbor, but someone who tried to get Lucy and I killed. Swiftly I grab my pre-strung bow from its place beside me. I plan to fire at the chest, giving the boy a quick death. He makes no move to dodge my arrow, even seems to welcome it. I make my decision.

But in the same instant, Lucy makes hers.

"It's alright, we'll help you." she says gently to him. I have no choice but to lower my bow.

Like a shy horse afraid of being tricked, the boy slowly steps forward, limping terribly on his wounded leg. Lucy rushes to help him. She places his arm around her shoulder and supports him as he stumbles forward.

"Help me already Nate!" she shrieks as he almost falls over. I sigh heavily and stand to help the boy.

Once he's settled on the sleeping bag Lucy gets to work dressing his wound, chatting cheerfully. She gives him snow water from the canteen and a ration of our berries. I sit a few feet away, studying them both.

I wonder how someone in as much pain as Lucy could put on such a show on the outside. Mom always said I "Wear my heart on my sleeve" and that I was her easiest child to read. I'm thinking about all this when a familiar burning smell reaches my nose. It takes me all of two seconds to realize what it is. I look at the collecting snow, horrified.

"Lucy, run!" I shriek.

_**Thalia Maddock, District 4**_

They say nothing comes easy in the Hunger Games, not even death.

Death was close as I fell into the numb darkness. I was ready to leave, ready to take the only way out of this cursed arena. Ready to leave my body behind.

But death never comes easy in the Hunger Games.

Suddenly the chains around my neck came back. The pain blindsides me, I had not expected it to return. Along with it come my senses, sight, smell, sound, taste, touch. They all slam on my mind like an iron hammer. Then just as quickly as the chains had come, they were suddenly gone. Not in a numb way, but in a physical, my-lungs-gasped-for-air –and-actually-found-it way. Caught off guard, I fall to the ground.

I lay on my side, taking relieved breaths. Shouts and footsteps swirl around me. My head pounded trying to focus. My mind was unpacking, settling back in, I would not leave yet. Something called a smile spreads across my face.

"Thalia! Are you alright? Talk to me!" A boy's handsome face appears above me; his voice is warm and crackly like a fire.

"Colt!" Another girl joins him, "Tayley has the food, let's go!" He nods, effortlessly, he lifts me into his arms bride and groom style and takes off toward the woods. The scene shoots past me like a movie on fast forward.

Adrienne, Jewlee and Malum all lie face down on the ground, clutching various body parts, pain in their faces. The tribute I've heard called Tayley stands over them, cracking her knuckles, looking smug, the stolen pack of food now in her possession.

Colt calls to her, she looks up, emerald eyes flashing, then she darts away with us into the woods.

The girl who spoke with Colt leads the way, running like a gazelle. Tayley runs behind her with the food, struggling to match her pace. Bringing up the rear is Colt, slowed down my weight.

I jump as gunshots pulse behind us. Colt chuckles.

"Don't worry, you and I both know none of them can shoot long distance to save their life." I smile, relaxed by his presence. I enjoy the return of my senses, the sun's warmth on my head, the smell of the forest. It all clicks back into place like a little wind up toy being put back together.

Suddenly, Colt stops dead in his tracks. A blast of icy air sweeps across us. A hiss fills the entire arena. A beat of silence follows, then an ear splitting roar. Instantly, a massive cloud of white appears in front of us. It stretches across the width of arena, advancing toward us with impossible speed.

"Snow." I whisper, watching the delicate flakes swirl about. Colt sniffs, his brow furrowed in concentration. The snow swallows the two girls and the forest around it. Colt sniffs again. Another rush of cold air surges toward us, bringing a strong burning smell. Terror spreads across his face.

"Run!" he cries, setting me down. We take off back in the direction we came, the snow cloud advancing just behind us. The strong chemical stench that radiates from the bleak white burns my nostrils and stings on my skin. Colt stops suddenly.

"Charlyn." He whispers desperately. He turns to me, "There's a pesticide in the snow Thalia, I recognize the smell, we use it on the farm sometimes. It's extremely deadly," we both burst into a coughing fit as the cloud catches us and we are swallowed into total white. The deafening roar of the wind makes us cover our ears. "I'm going back for Charlyn!" Colt yells over the sound.

"You'll die!" I scream back at him.

"I'm more used to it than you, and it's not far, I'll be fine!" He takes my shoulder, I can hardly see s face through the snow. "Keep running I'll catch up!"

Then without another word he disappears into snow, invisible to me within seconds. Burning tears welling in my eyes, I sprint in the opposite direction. Every flake singes my skin, the stench chokes my lungs. I trip over a lumpy shape almost covered with white powder. The snow stings on my hands as I stop and turn it over.

Pale, icy death stares me in the face. I place a hand to my mouth to keep from vomiting. The hair is slicked back and gray with ice. The skin is white-blue and dusted with white flakes. Two black dead eyes stare out of hollow purple sockets, terror frozen inside of them. The bow lips, once pink are now the color of cold turkey. I recognize the body as the girl who saved me only minutes before, the gazelle girl.

I gently close her eyes, ignoring the stinging of the snowflakes on my body. I arrange her flailed out arms at her chest, and push her legs together. There. Now she could be some kind of ice princess, laid to rest in the snow. It settles me somehow. I stand, turn, and continue onward into the white.

_**Charlyn Thorn, District 3**_

The stinging of the snow is unbearable even to my skin, strengthened by years of toxic chemical exposure in the factory. My feet trudge on in what must be two feet of icy powder. My child goes still inside of me, this scares me more than the burns of on my skin. I wrap my arms around my belly, a desperate attempt to keep my baby alive.

I knew something was off when the birds stopped singing. I was a few hundred yards away from the camp, at the creek collecting water when the snow struck. Those few hundred yards saved my life, because had I been at the camp minutes earlier, I would not have escaped in time.

My life. I stop myself. Our lives. Those few hundred yards saved our lives. Even after eight months of carrying a second person, I still think only of myself. Cold tears stream down my face and they have nothing to do with the pain from the snow.

_**Lucy Contessa, District 5**_

"Scat!" I scream, kneeling over his fallen body.

"Leave him Lucy, there's nothing we can do!" Nate yells from behind me.

I can't move. A deadly snow storm surrounds me, but I can't move. The same thoughts keep echoing inside my mind. _I gave him the water. I let him drink it. I'm the reason he died so painfully rather than a quick death from Nate's arrow. _

"Lucy!" Nate seems further away now. I hope he will start running soon and save himself. I don't want to be the reason another boy is dead. First Colt, now Scat. Surely the universe would let me die now? Surely I have caused the world enough damage.

I let myself fall into unconsciousness. With any luck I will wake up anywhere but here in this cursed arena.

"Lucy!" a final voice yells through the snow. But it's not Nate's. It's the wonderful crackly voice that I dream about. I look up and see Colt standing over me. I smile, I must be dead now.


	13. Chapter 11, Alliance

_Chapter 11, Alliance_

_**Nate Morgue, District 11**_

I watched as Lucy's figure collapse over Scat's lifeless chest, my heart dropped to my stomach.

"Lucy! Lucy, please!" I yelled over and over again. I ran to her and wrapped my arms around her waist, trying to lift her and carry her to safety. It was no use though. I was weak. I only stumbled a few steps when I fell down. She hit the ground with a thud, but didn't stir. She instead lay face up, totally motionless, like a perfect frozen statue. I shook her, I begged her to wake up, but her eyes remained shut and her skin a ghostly gray.

The boy appeared out of nowhere. One minute there was nothing, the next, he was there. He was tall and muscular, he appeared to have red-brown hair beneath the coating of snow that covered him. Colt Evans.

"Hey," his voice is heavy with sorrow, "l-l-let me try, ok." He doesn't wait for my answer as he gently scoops her body into his arms. Once she is against his chest, she coughs roughly. Her eyes open for a second, then close again as she leaves consciousness.

Colt doesn't say anything. He just stands and begins to walk, nodding at me to follow. The falling snow has begun to thin, but bleak foggy white still stretches in all directions. We walk in silence for a while.

_So this is the famous Colt, _I think as I sneak a glance at him. _Back from the dead_. I grimace at the thought of what he might do to me later when we're out of this mess. My instincts tell me to run, but something keeps telling me I can't leave Lucy.

"So, you took care of her man." He says. His voice is deep and lightly accented. I nod, biting my lip. He sighs heavily and turns to look at me, tears in his eyes. "Thanks," he whispers.

" 's nothing," I answer quietly. I stare at Lucy's gray arm hanging lifelessly from her still body. I think about how much I don't want her to die.

"She's so cold," he whispers staring down at her for a moment. Then his head snaps up, an intuitional look in his eyes. "There was a second medic," he whispers. Seeing the confused look on my face, he turns to me. "The medic that gave you the tracking implant did another medic come after him?" he asks me.

I rewind my memories back through the blur of the Games, before the snow, the clearing, the volcano, the elevator, then the medic room. It's very fuzzy that far back, almost dizzying.

"She had fire red hair, a scar above her eyebrow," Colt eggs on. Suddenly the women's face snaps into place.

"Yes," I answer, "She gave me an-"

"Injection of blue liquid," Colt finishes and nods. "She gave me that too. They usually never do anything but the tracking implant, right? I mean, I don't see a reason why they would do anything else." His eyes wander off into the distance. "So what if not everyone got the second injection? What if it's something that helps us tolerate this?" He nods to the vast span of chemical snow. The thought dawns on me and rage stirs within my thoughts.

"President Snow was picking favorites before we even went into the arena." I say. And somehow saying it aloud makes it anger me more than thinking it in my head. I look at the white powder around us with new-found disgust.

"Think she got a shot?" Colt whispers looking down at Lucy again. Only silence follows. Our shivering breaths and Lucy's labored ones are the only sounds for miles. It makes me wonder if we are the only survivors.

"Do you have a girl Nate?" Colt ventures, breaking the heavy silence.

"I do." I respond. "Her name is Bella, she means absolutely everything to me."

"I know the feeling," said Colt. He sighs heavily, blowing some snow off of his face. "I had every woman in town. They all wanted me. They all worshiped me. And I loved every minute of it. Especially Jewlee," he says with a guilty expression on his face. I clear my throat as he chuckles bitterly. "But it never felt perfect, you know. I even started to think I might be…" he trails off as Lucy coughs again shifts in his arms. His eyes study her, completely transfixed on every movement. "When I met her. I don't know I just started seeing things differently. I love her." He whispers the last two words and sweeps a stray piece of auburn hair from her face.

"Hey, look at that," I squint at a far off shape in the distance. Colt notices it too.

"Looks like a cave," he says.

"Could be full of careers," I warn. He looks down at Lucy's gray face.

"It's worth it." He says finally. We begin to walk toward the distant shape. It takes so long to reach it, I begin to think it might be a mirage. Every time we begin to get close, the cave only seems further away. The icy flakes' sting grow stronger, the chemical odor more potent. Lucy stirs a few more times, but mostly she remains still and corpse-like.

The sky grows darker and by the time we are close to the cave, it's nearly evening. We still a small ways out when a small female figure emerges from the cave and spots us. They quickly run back inside.

_Adrienne. _Is all I can think about. I cringe at the thought of her alerting Malum and the other careers. Jewlee, Romulus and Adam. Their cold faces put fear in my mind. But the second figure to emerge with the first is neither of these tributes. Closer now, I recognize it as the small blonde girl called Thalia, beside her is Tayley, the girl I explored the Deep Maze with.

"Thalia!" Colt calls in recognition. The taller blonde figure jumps eagerly. Colt passes Lucy to me and takes off toward the cave, kicking up tufts of snow with his feet. I struggle to keep up as I practically drag Lucy's body after him. I'm puffing and panting when I reach the cave.

Tayley has disappeared back inside. Thalia and Colt stand close together, talking in low voices. A painful whimper echoes from inside the cave.

"Colt you have to help." She begs. "Charlyn is in labor and Tayley and I have no clue what to do. You're experienced."

"Only on cows." Colt says, paling slightly. A louder, more painful cry sounds again from the cave. Thalia then notices me standing there with Lucy's body in my arms. Her face tenses and her eyes narrow. Colt places a large hand on her shoulder. "He's fine, you can trust him." He speaks confidently. Thalia's eyes remain contemptible as she turns back to Colt.

"Colt you're her only chance at surviving this." Thalia takes him by the wrist and pulls him into the cave. I follow behind them, cringing at the painful shrieks coming from inside. Thalia pulls Colt around the corner without a backward glance at me. I settle down by the meager fire with Lucy. Her eyes flutter open as we grow warmer. In a soft whisper voice I explain to her everything that has happened. She glances worriedly at the corner where the cries are becoming louder. And her eyes light up like stars when she hears that Colt is alive.

We sit intertwined beside the fire for a while before nightfall comes and the anthem begins to play. No one emerges from around the corner, so we watch by ourselves. Charlyn's cries become louder, and each face that appears in the sky makes me cringe.

The first face is Romulus' and my heart skips a beat. I expect him to pop out any moment, say "Gotcha" and punch me in the face. But his picture only fades away wordlessly into the sky. Charlyn screams. Another face. Romulus is replaced by the red haired boy from five, then the boy with blonde hair from six. Next is the dark skinned boy from seven and the scarred boy from nine. Charlyn lets out another tortured shriek as my fellow tribute, Pandora from 11, fades in. I cringe thinking about how the Head Peacekeeper will retaliate at his daughter's death. After Pandora is the brown haired girl from District 12. Charlyn is panting heavily now, Colt, Thalia and Tayley all mumble incoherently.

The seal reappears and the music ends. I spot tears running down Lucy's face but can't think of anything to say. It's as if everything is happening around us and we have control over what path it takes. Charlyn's cries echo louder and louder. The fire crackles. Stars flicker behind the snow-fogged sky.

Our hands clasp together, as we both long for someone else.

_R.I.P _

_Romulus Ares _

_Simon Draker_

_Scott Perseus _

_Scat Willhope_

_Bailey Fantine_

_Krons Gannon_

_Henna Doe_

_Adam turner_

_Pic Jericho_

_Graze Knight_

_Pandora Dredwin_

_Brie Robertson_

_Roc Hertz_

_**I will have a death list at the end of every chapter that includes an evening slideshow. This is when the tributes find out who is alive and dead so I want to keep that element of surprise. **_

_**Thanks! **_


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